Volume One: Menial Servant of Changshui County Chapter Thirty-Three: Drawing Upon the Fortune of Confucianism

"How dare you!" the magistrate’s assistant shouted, his voice sharp and indignant, as if righteous fury burned within him.

"All matters in this world must abide by reason," Magistrate Wang said, his face dark as he fixed his gaze upon Lu Jiuzhang. "Without evidence, how can one be convicted based on a few words alone?"

"Your Excellency, I am innocent!" cried the local bully from the Zhang family, seizing the chance to strike back. "I formally accuse Lu Jiuzhang, a menial of the Demon Slaying Division, of attacking me without cause and leaving me seriously injured. Just look at the state I’m in, sir! This was all the doing of Lu Jiuzhang—please, you must see justice done for me!"

At this, Magistrate Wang turned a stern eye on Lu Jiuzhang. "Lu Jiuzhang, menial of the Demon Slaying Division, you are accused by Zhang Taihe of beating him. Is this true?"

The crowd watched, their hearts clenched with anxiety for Lu Jiuzhang. The situation was clearly unfavorable; it seemed he would not escape a harsh punishment.

"Your Excellency, does Zhang Taihe have any evidence for his accusation?" Lu Jiuzhang countered.

"I am not asking about evidence," Magistrate Wang pressed, "I ask only: did you do this?"

"Yes," Lu Jiuzhang replied.

"Insolence! To commit assault in broad daylight, in the middle of the street no less! You are but a petty menial, yet you act with such audacity, disregarding both myself and the laws of the Great Zhou dynasty. Do you think your position in the Demon Slaying Division gives you license to run rampant in Changshui County?" Magistrate Wang thundered.

Anyone with eyes could see the magistrate was blatantly biased, but no one dared intervene, and many grew ever more anxious.

"Your Excellency, had he not harassed my younger sister, I would never have struck him," Lu Jiuzhang retorted.

"And did he succeed in harassing her?" Magistrate Wang asked.

"He did not," Lu Jiuzhang replied. "But let me ask you, sir: if a man comes at another with a blade intent on murder, is one not allowed to resist? Must one wait to be slain before seeking justice?"

"How dare you!" the magistrate roared. "Do you think a lowly menial can question my words?"

He turned to the bailiffs. "Take Lu Jiuzhang away. Give him thirty heavy strokes, and inform Director Chen of the Demon Slaying Division that Lu Jiuzhang is to be dismissed from his post."

Once stripped of his title, Lu Jiuzhang would be at the Zhang family’s mercy, powerless against their malice. As an officer, at least, he might have had some protection.

"Your Excellency, the blame is mine alone," a woman’s voice cried out.

Zhao Chan’er, seeing things had gone beyond hope, rushed into the hall and knelt. "Your Excellency, I am Zhao Chan’er, one of those involved. If you must punish someone, let it be me."

Tears streamed down her cheeks; she could not bear for Lu Jiuzhang to suffer on her account. He was a good man—how could he survive if dismissed from the Demon Slaying Division?

"Zhao Chan’er, as one involved, I ask you: did Zhang Taihe harass you? If you say he did not, I will spare Lu Jiuzhang from the thirty strokes," Magistrate Wang said, guiding her response before the crowd.

If she agreed, Lu Jiuzhang’s fate would be sealed.

"Your Excellency, it was I who tempted Young Master Zhang. Lu Jiuzhang is innocent. Punish me if you must—he is not to blame," she sobbed.

Foolish girl, Lu Jiuzhang thought, weariness weighing on him. But he knew she meant well, ignorant as she was of the dangers swirling about them.

"Well then, Lu Jiuzhang, do you have anything further to say?" Magistrate Wang sneered. "You are but a mere menial, yet you dare act with such arrogance. I am the father of Changshui County—do you think I will let you cause chaos?"

He turned to his assistant. "Has the interrogation been fully recorded?"

"It is as complete as needed, Your Excellency," the assistant replied—he had not only recorded, but embellished the account, laying every fault at Lu Jiuzhang’s feet.

"Take Lu Jiuzhang away!" Magistrate Wang commanded with a wave.

Immediately, several bailiffs advanced toward Lu Jiuzhang.

"Let’s see who dares touch me," Lu Jiuzhang declared, finally grasping the depth of the corruption. Darkness—true darkness—ruled this world. If even the smallest county was so unjust, what of Anxi Prefecture, or North Slope Commandery, or the Great Zhou itself?

"I, Lu Jiuzhang, am recognized in the Confucian Way as a ninth-rank scholar, equivalent to the title of Xiucai," he announced, rising to his feet.

As he stood, an aura of scholarly virtue gathered about him, intellect radiating from his form.

"I knelt to you out of respect for your office, County Magistrate, but do you truly take me for a man to be bullied?"

A ninth-rank scholar—equivalent to the title of Xiucai, a degree one could earn at the provincial exam, along with the blessing of Confucian fortune. Though often the butt of jokes—‘sour scholar, old scholar’—to reach the rank of Xiucai was to be a true man of letters, bearing privileges such as exemption from kneeling before officials, certain taxes, and corvée labor.

"Even a Xiucai dares to act wild before me?" Magistrate Wang thundered.

"I do not presume to act wild," Lu Jiuzhang replied, "but the laws of the land are not so easily altered by a mere county magistrate. The Zhang family’s bully, Zhang Taihe, runs wild in Changshui County, oppressing men, abusing women, and you shelter such crimes?"

"Where is the law of the Great Zhou? Where is the justice of Heaven?"

"You take your salary from the people, yet oppress them. The people may be easy to abuse, but Heaven is not."

Lu Jiuzhang’s voice rang out: "We, the scholars, must hold justice in our hearts. As Confucian students, we set our hearts for Heaven and Earth, establish life for the people, continue the wisdom of the sages, and bring peace to all generations."

The four maxims of Hengqu echoed through the ages.

As his declaration thundered forth, those present felt a chill in their hearts.

High above, dark clouds gathered, thunder rolled. Unwittingly, Lu Jiuzhang had invoked a formidable power.

…

Anxi Prefecture, Kuixing Tower.

Ordinarily a simple, ancient pavilion, today the Kuixing Tower trembled, emitting waves of white light.

In North Slope Commandery, at the Kuixing Tower, Confucian scholars perused books as fierce winds began to blow, the tower swaying as if in an earthquake.

In the capital’s Shanglin Garden—the holy ground of Confucianism—the Kuixing Tower soared hundreds of feet high, and today, strange phenomena appeared.

There were thirty-six commanderies and one hundred and eight prefectures in the Great Zhou. Each had its own Kuixing Tower, and today, all one hundred and eight towers shook as celestial omens descended.

In that unseen realm, fortune poured down from the heavens.

Lu Jiuzhang stood bathed in that radiance, seeming almost divine. A gentle wind stirred his robes, making him appear all the more extraordinary.

The sky was thick with clouds, thunder rumbling without end.

"I, Lu Jiuzhang, am but a humble scholar of the Great Zhou. Yet today, standing here, I ask you, Magistrate Wang: do you truly believe scholars are so easily oppressed? Do you wish to be cursed by every scholar under heaven, to be condemned for all ages to come?"